


Make Me Feel Loved

by DankSide_ofTheMoon



Category: Spies In Disguise (2019)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, I flipped a coin, I wrote this in procrastination of writing something else, Idiots in Love, It was either this or smut, Love/Hate, M/M, One Shot, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:06:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24828040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DankSide_ofTheMoon/pseuds/DankSide_ofTheMoon
Summary: “Sterling,” the voice stated sharply again, hands pushing down on him a few times before Lance blinked, glaring up at the man above him like a deer caught in headlights.“What?”A pause. Then, a whisper: “I can’t sleep.”
Relationships: Killian/Lance Sterling
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	Make Me Feel Loved

“Sterling.”

“Hnngh.” 

A voice, paired by an eeriness that was like no other, shook him awake. A pair of eyes were raised above him; one illuminated in the dark like a flashlight.

Lance also found it odd that it had suddenly become more difficult to breathe; before realizing the heaviness on his chest indicated that Killian had straddled him; a metallic hand and its counterpart pressed onto his chest uncomfortably. Lance raised a hand to swat at the face above him; though only succeeding to sluggishly bat at the beam of light assaulting his sleep.

“Sterling,” the voice stated sharply again, hands pushing down on him a few times before Lance blinked, glaring up at the man above him like a deer caught in headlights.

“What?” 

A pause. Then, a whisper: “I can’t sleep.”

Lance groaned before pushing himself to a sitting position, back against the headboard. The motion made Killian slide down to his lap. Lance watched as he held a finger against his temple; turning off the eye’s light. Lance blinked at the change in brightness - gaze slowly focusing on the surrounding darkness.

“And your solution is to… what? Wake me up and talk about it at,” Lance glanced at the digital clock resting on the bedside dresser: “ - oh hell - _4:26_ in the morning?!” 

“I-” Killian murmured, and Lance felt a little bad at snapping. Emphasis on a _little_. Sure - he’s a morning person. But even this was much too early in the morning. All thoughts of anger faded though, as Lance felt Killian’s head fall to his shoulder and was reminded of the cold silicon lying beneath the hologram - contrasting warmth burying itself in the crook of his neck and peppering his collarbone with apologetic kisses. 

After a drowsy moment, Lance sighed - pulling Killian towards himself; who grasped his waist tightly, as if afraid to let go. Desperate. Passionate. A thought raced through Lance’s mind. Pressing his smirking lips against Killian’s right ear, he gave him a small bite on the earlobe.

“What is it, then?” Lance growled: “You want sex?”

Killian stilled above him and Lance could practically feel the blush spreading across the other’s features. 

“No. I-I can’t...Not now...” Killian flushed, pulling back and staring into Lance’s eyes. All humor drained from him as if someone had pulled out a plug. Lance froze at the haunted expression on his face - recognized it as the outcome of nightmares. Something sharp stabbed him in the gut when Killian murmured - voice tired but restless: “Just...Make me feel loved. Please.”

Lance stilled, then drew in a sharp breath and nodded: “Yeah. Yeah- sure Kills, of course.”

Killian didn’t move from atop him as Lance gathered the blankets around them, throwing it over Killian and wrapping his body into his arms. He went limp when Lance pulled him into himself and pressed a kiss to his forehead - eliciting a soft sigh. 

With a hand stroking his back - kneading away the tension of the muscle under the silk nightshirt - Lance felt Killian turn to jello on top of him after a while. His breathing steadied and his eyes were closed. Lance began to wonder if it’s safe to assume that he had fallen asleep.

“Kills?”

“Hmm…” 

Alright. Not asleep. But maybe close to it? Lance stopped and rested his hand on Killian’s back - submerging himself into the feeling of the weight atop him. Not that there was a lot. As sturdy as he was, Killian - though he hates to admit it - didn’t weigh as much as Lance, nor was as tall. The muscles were definitely there, and their physiques were similar. Nevertheless, their skill-sets have inherently molded their physical differences. 

From past fights, he knew that although Killian was quicker than him, Lance was better at utilizing his momentum and his surroundings in favor of his strength. He had the advantage of H.T.U.V training that provided an air of subtlety and style to his attacks - though Killian, on multiple occasions, called his methods “hardly fighting” and being “five steps away from ballet”. Lance had brushed it off every time with a good-natured grin (shit-eating, if you asked Killian) and recounted that he had fed dust to his army of drones with said “ballet”. 

Killian didn’t think of it that way; what with his go-for-the-throat, take-no-prisoners techniques - oftentimes bitching about how Lance didn’t really fought and won; just confused and tricked him into a loss.

Speaking of bitching, Killian had begun to shift on top of him; arching his back into Lance’s hand between his shoulder blades - which had stopped kneading a few minutes ago. Watching him squirm made something slightly malicious tingle in Lance, though.

Thus, instead of starting again on demand, Lance smiled as Killian drove his back up against his hand wildly. The agent teased him by making no motion to start moving again - even dropping his hand away from the man’s back entirely; soon reveling in a frustrated huff against his chest. 

“Sterling...” Killian hissed out, lifting his eyes to Lance - who noticed his metallic prosthetic digging into the mattress with barely concealed aggravation. Lance grunted at the mention of his name, a grin spreading across his face at knowingly fraying the other’s nerves. His hands remained by his side, though.

Killian growled, bracing one arm against his side and nuzzling the top of his head against Lance’s jawline roughly; soft hair ticking the base of his throat. Lance let out a soft chuckle - which was suddenly cut short with a hard headbutt against his throat that left him coughing for air.

“Alright, alright! Point taken,” Lance choked out, placing his hand back on Killian’s shoulder blades and massaging into him with renewed energy. A soft hum was felt beneath him as Killian leaned into the touch, burying his face into the hollow of Lance’s neck - small puffs of exhaled air drifting lightly over his bruised trachea.

 _Make me feel loved_ , he’d said. Lance had sighed and promised. But like everything it was with Killian, he should’ve known that he’ll be held hostage to his promises too.

**Author's Note:**

> I did not edit this for spelling, grammar, or word choice so hopefully, it doesn't suck too much.  
> \- BALLET IS FREAKIN' DIFFICULT. Oh the irony...   
> \- If I had written smut - Killian is definitely a bottom, though reluctantly. Hate-sex much? XD


End file.
